


all things will fade

by DapperJuniper



Category: IT (2017), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Eddie Kaspbrak-centric, Found Family, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, thats my favorite tag tbh, theyre in like their mid 20s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-20 16:22:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21059609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DapperJuniper/pseuds/DapperJuniper
Summary: “But Rich, she’s my mom, I’m supposed to be there for her. She loves me-”“That’s not love.”In which Eddie has a nightmare about his mother.





	all things will fade

**Author's Note:**

> this was a warm up but i kind of like how it came out so here's some gentle eddie love!
> 
> ( title is from two coffins by against me! which is honestly such a jam if you haven't listened to it i highly recommend it )

“Rich?”

Eddie had woken up with tears in his eyes. He hated crying- it made him feel weak, and it wasn’t great for his ego, considering that he was, one, physically small; and two, very gay, both of which combined created some really shitty stereotypes that he’d much rather avoid, thank you.

But things were different in the dark of their bedroom. He reached his hand out to the lump of blankets next to him, the soft snores coming from Richie feeling a lot more endearing when he was terrified.

“Richie, c’mon,” He pushed himself up on his elbow and grabbed at what he thought was Richie’s shoulder. The lump next to him grunted a bit, shaking his arm off. “I’m not kidding, Rich. Wake up. Please.”

He sniffled a bit, then pulled his hand back and wiped at his eyes. Disgusting. 

Richie must’ve heard his whining, because he was pushing himself up onto his elbows before Eddie knew it.

“Eds? Is somethin’ wrong?” His voice was thick with the sound of exhaustion, but picking up a bit with panic at the ends. Richie was always a bit grumpy when he first woke up, but if Eddie was upset, that irritation just disappeared.

And Eddie found himself in this situation a lot more than he’d like to admit.

“Yeah,” He reached out for Richie again, tugging at his shirt. There were holes in it, but Richie refused to throw it away (“_ Eds, it’s vintage. The kids these days love vintage, and I need to stay relevant.” _) so he’d started wearing it to bed. “I just. Yeah.”

“What happened this time?” Richie sank back down into the bed, this time facing Eddie. He curled himself around Eddie, and Eddie nuzzled as far into Richie’s chest as he could manage.

“Mama.” 

It was leaving him quickly. Something with his mother- she was chasing him, holding a rope taught in her hands, but then she’d split. First her head, muscles reaching out from the middle and splitting into two- the skin near exposed brain wrapping back around at record speed to form separate heads, and then her spine- pulling back from her body and winding out, blood dripping from the nerves and screams of laughter coming from her form. For some reason, Eddie’s voice wasn’t working, and he’d just run as fast as he could. He’d started indoors- some place with ceilings that ascended into nothingness, pink milky liquid up to his waist slowing him down. He blinked and he was outside, running down a hill and through trees. He didn’t see her, but he felt like she was there. She was always there, always around the next corner, trying to bring him back to her. He didn’t want to go back. He didn’t feel safe when he was with her. He’d tripped in his dream, tripped and fallen down the hill and broken his neck. He’d looked up into the night sky, the feeling of blood pooling out under him where he was cut from the sticks, feeling four hands grabbing at his feet and whispering _ We’ll bring him back to her. He can’t leave if he can’t walk. _

And then he’d woken up.

“She’s gone,” Richie was running fingers through Eddie’s hair. “She doesn’t know where we are, okay, baby?”

Eddie closed his eyes. He loved when Richie called him that.

“She can’t hurt you. You’re a grown ass adult, now, and if she ever even tried to call you I’d drive my ass back to Derry and beat her myself.”

“Wow. How brave,” Eddie snorted. “Beating an old and lonely woman.”

“She deserves to be lonely.”

“Maybe,” Eddie brought his hand up to Richie’s cheek, rubbed his thumb over the stubble lining his jaw. “But-”

“Don’t say it.”

“- what if I just. What if it’s my fault?”

“It’s not your fault.”

“But Rich, she’s my mom, I’m supposed to be there for her. She loves me-”

“That’s not love.” His voice was steady as he said the words. Eddie wanted to just curl back into himself, because he _ knew _ this. He knew, in his head, that his mother didn’t love him. He knew that you don’t show love by controlling every aspect of someone’s life. He knew that love wasn’t throwing things and screaming when he didn’t do something she asked of him. He knew that love wasn’t her only giving him attention and hugs and kisses when he’d stay home, stay away from his friends, and watch some movie with her. He knew that love was supposed to be wanting the best for the other person, even if their best wasn’t what you wanted. He _ knew _ all of this, yet he felt like he didn’t really know. He kept feeling guilty, kept trying to go back to her. And the three times that he had, he’d been miserable. He’d cut off all communication with his friends, he’d done all of the house chores for his mother, he’d become hyper-focused on his school work, he’d quit his job to take care of his mother- he’d stopped eating as much, he’d starting picking at his skin, he’d stopped sleeping, stopped laughing, stopped smiling. It’d made him sick. He was in a constant state of anxiety; _ is mom going to be happy today? Is she going to get mad if I put creamer in my coffee? Or will she let me have a little? Will she make me climb the ladder to clean the gutters even though she knows how I feel about heights? Will she tell me how useless I am? Or will she tell me that I did a good job? Will she say she loves me? Will she love me? _

He _ knew _that it wasn’t good for him, but he still wanted to go back to his mother. He thought, deep down, that maybe- just maybe- if he did enough, she’d finally love him back, for real. He knew it was just a fever dream. But he could hope.

The thoughts began to fade away with Richie’s hand stroking his hair, the soft whispers of _ She’s gone _ , _ You’re safe _ , and _ I love you _ filling his ears and filling his heart. He did know love. He knew Richie’s soft touches, his gentle pushes towards trying new things- but never if it made Eddie too nervous, and he knew the way that Richie teased him was love in its own way. He knew Beverly’s loving hold on his hand as she painted his nails, whispering to him about some silly thing that Ben had told her and laughing- and how her laugh filled Eddie’s heart up like the light of the sun on his skin. He knew Mike’s letters in the mail, filled with printed photos and polaroids of him and Bill and Stan out on their road trips, the stories about the trips that he wrote out on ripped journal pages and scribbly handwriting, the battered paperback books with his own annotations in all the free space (but he knew that Eddie loved to read his thoughts). He knew love in the way that Bill would send him little links to pictures of cute dogs or funny posts with nothing more than the words _ This made me think of you :) _ texted out after. He knew that Stan’s love was a bit less noticeable than the others- the way he wouldn’t pull away when their hands would brush, or how he would get offended when someone else would slide into a booth next to Eddie, or how he would simply smile at him like he was some sort of demigod, or the way that he would whisper stupid things to make him laugh and get a rile out of Richie (“ _ You talking shit Staniel? Wanna go? Meet me out back? I can take you with both hands tied behind my back-” _). And Ben? Ben was always so gentle. He showed his love in the way that he promised not to tell anyone that they’d watched a romance movie and both cried into the popcorn bowl, how he’d make up his fold out couch for Eddie and apologize for waking him up while making them both breakfast in the morning, and when he’d show Eddie a present that he made for Bev before giving it to her- he showed it in the way that he’d promised to keep in touch with Eddie even after they’d gone to different universities- and kept his promise of weekly phone calls, each lasting an hour or more.

Eddie fell back into a gentle sleep, knowing that his friends loved him. They loved him more than anyone else in the world- except, perhaps, each other.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on my tumblr [@gaycultists](https://gaycultists.tumblr.com)


End file.
